Alun was drunk and being surly and rude. I asked him why he was having a go at me and he said “I’m depressed. Have been for years”.
It broke my heart and tears sprang to my eyes.
“Alun, you have to see someone professional. A psychologist or counsellor. You have to talk to someone who can help you feel better again. I know there are counsellors in the Hospital you work in. They are there especially to help Nurses because you all work long hours and go through traumatic events. I really think you should see one. I also think you should see a GP who can find the right meds for you and help medically where counsellors can work on your mental and emotional health”
Alun shook his head “Nope. Not doing any of that. Not ever. I’ll keep it to myself”
Our argument escalated; me in tears and desperately trying to get Alun to please see a counsellor and Alun getting angrier “You’re pissing me off now. I can handle this by myself!”
No, Alun. You can’t.
I started yelling about how painful it is to watch Alun basically drink himself to death every night.
“I’m depressed too but I try so hard to get better!!!” I yelled “I go to psych appointments and have been in hospital 4 times! But you’re not going to try? You’re going to keep going the way you are – is that right?”
Alun nodded “I do what I like”
“Maybe if you were single, this would fly but you’re married so you don’t get to do whatever you like, Alun!’ Tears were streaming down my face “you are part of a couple now, so every time you decide to get blackout drunk rather than talk to someone about what’s hurting you…you are hurting me“
Alun shrugged “so?”
Excuse me? So???
“So what if I just destroyed myself in front of you – that would be incredibly hurtful to you wouldn’t it?”
With my emotions running high, I went to the kitchen and took about 30 tablets. A mixture of anti depressants, pain killers and anti anxiety tablets.
Drunk Alun just watched.
I felt I needed more tablets so I opened our medicine drawer. At this, Alun walked over and leaned his foot against the drawer so I couldn’t open it.
“Well I’ve had more than enough tablets to kill myself” I challenged Alun “so you can just watch me die. You refuse to do anything to help yourself so I give up, too!” My heart was breaking because Alun was so drunk I knew he was barely able to understand me. He didn’t respond.
“Right then” I nodded to myself and went to bed
I don’t remember the next 12-14 hours that clearly. I remember Alun squeezing my wrists hard, saying something about “where is your fucking pulse???” I remember Alun trying to move me, saying he’d called the “poisons line” and they said I was in great danger taking that amount of pills.
I remember waking up and it was as night. I thought I’d only been unconscious a few hours, but my phone told me it was the night after.
I tried to get up and my head spun. My kidneys and liver were aching badly and hot to the touch.
Alun was passed out on the sofa.
I’m livid with him and angry that I didn’t die because that would make Alun sit up and listen to me for once.
I slept all the next day.
I’m in sooo much pain yet somehow I’m on the bus to work.
Alun rang when he realised I was gone. I can barely talk…I don’t know why. Talking feels like trying to get words out with a mouth full of treacle.
“I’m going to work” I managed to get a sentence out.
“You’re not well” from Alun
“I know that!!!” Tears because I’m in so much pain – in every sense of the word.
“You should be in hospital” Alun yawned. He didn’t seem that bothered to be honest.
“I’m not going to try anymore because YOU won’t try, Alun” I wiped tears away on my jumper sleeve. A few other passengers looked at me.
Another sigh from Alun “Just come home”
“I will try when YOU start to try. See a GP, see a counsellor. Ask for free sessions at your work, Alun. There is sooo much out there to help you! You just have to try”
“I’m too tired for this” Alun yawned again.
It made me so fucking angry!!!
“Right. Well. You get some rest and I’ll be at work”
I’m absolutely fuming.
The bus is nearly at my stop so I have to go.
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